


Use Your Words

by convolutedConcussion



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lack of Communication, No One Ever Talks WTF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 20:03:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7236541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/convolutedConcussion/pseuds/convolutedConcussion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dolls gets back to the homestead, he doesn't expect the barn to be inhabited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Use Your Words

They make it out, but barely.  There was no antidote—Bobo was playing them—the effects of _whatever_ was in the champagne wore off eventually (for some more quickly than others).  In the end, they’re all bruised, tired, bloodied—but very much alive.  There’s an angry, ugly, familiar pain up under her throat, boiling in her chest.  It’s been building, it was _helpful_ in the fight, but it hasn’t stopped yet.  Wave’s gone to bed, Nicole in tow and she has _questions_ but now isn’t the time, and when has she ever said that before?  Doc’s in the barn and hasn’t said a word.  She guesses she’s mad about that too.  She’s been on the porch for half an hour, numb except for that clawing thing inside her, when Dolls drives up.  He jogs up to her, cupping the sides of her face gently.

“Hey,” he whispers.

“Hey,” she answers, voice sounding broken in a way she hates.  As if to gloss over that, she presses their lips together, soft because she got popped a couple of times in a very un-sexy way.  “Will you stay?”

He nods, drawing her more solidly against his chest.  A sharp _crack_ —not a gunshot but the smack of wood on wood—breaks them apart.  She _knows_ it’s gonna be bad when he sees the light on in the barn, watches as his whole body goes ramrod straight.

Lips twisting viciously, there’s something icy in his tone when he asks, “Should I get goin’ instead?”

“No,” she says, hard.  “Are you kidding me?  Like, are you really serious?”  She tries to bite it back, but now that she’s started she can’t help her exasperated, “You’re not, like—I wasn’t treating you like my consolation prize, dude.  He’s an ally, and I have a thing about making sure those don’t die in their sleep because I’m on the only Rev-proof plot in this fucking place.”  Taking a breath, she realizes she’s got more, “He doesn’t even have house privileges.”

“You can’t imagine why this might be an irritant?” he demands, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna be real honest with you here, Dolls,” she answers, venom coating her voice as she leans against the railing.  “You can’t be jealous of or mad about or _irritated by_ every asshole I’ve ever slept with!  It’s exhausting, for one.  Believe me, I’ve tried.  And I don’t have to have _feelings_ about the guy to let him sleep in my unfinished barn.”

She stops, inhales.

He’s staring at her like he expects her to continue.

So she does, “This whole thing is terrible and we just got beat up—he’s on our side, mostly, and there aren’t a ton of people lining up to do that. You can still hate him but don’t take that shit out on me.  He’s right over there.”  Catching her lip between her teeth for a moment, she waits for him to say something but he’s all closed off, so she nods.  “Alright.  Have fun—door’s open when you’re done.”

Before she can say any more, she turns on her heel and stomps back into the house, stopping short of slamming the door.  Grumbling under her breath, she kicks off her boots and shucks off her coat and pretty much exhausts her remaining energy on being _damn pissed_.  She falls face-first into her bed, realizes she forgot to catch the light, and immediately resolves to not handle that just yet.  She doesn’t bother checking to see how much time has passed when her door creaks open and she hears the switch click.

Sighing, she rolls onto her back and scowls into the dark.  “I’m sorry I yelled at you, and also that I didn’t tell you I said he could stay,” she says, finding it easier somehow when she can’t see him.

“I’m sorry I was a dick about it,” he replies as the bed dips with his weight.

“Did you beat him up?” she asks while he jostles her until she’s curled at his side, head on his shoulder.

“Wynonna, he’s a senior citizen,” he jokes.

She groans, “God, that was bad, I regret every choice.  I changed my mind, you gotta go.”  He laughs, and it’s a little stilted but it’s there.  She arches up to press her lips to his jaw, wincing when he hisses.  “Sorry,” she whispers.  “You know I didn’t just throw myself at the first warm body, right?  I actually have been very pro kissing you, okay?”

“Yeah, I know,” he hums, stroking over her hair.

“Significantly less now, yanno ‘cause I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck,” she yawns.  “Just something to keep in mind.  It’s not just _you_ who needs _me_.”

The only answer she gets is the gentle peck against her forehead, and maybe that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever think to yourself, _Self, these nerds finally kissed. You know what would make that better? An argument._
> 
> Oh, is that... that's probably just me.
> 
> Hit up my [Tumblr](http://johnisntevendead.tumblr.com) where I can't go a single day without talking about them.


End file.
